Somewhere

Across the the tides of nothingness

is Earth's twin.



Men with brilliance sit in suits,

and drink wine as they do here on Earth

but do not get drunk on their power.

I want to breathe bliss while I'm in your arms!
I want to squeeze tight to the wings of wind,
And let go-all at once falling to depths and heights never felt before.
I want to play in the dirt and smother myself in clay.
I want to lick the leaves on the trees,
And watch bunnies nibble on grass blades.
I want to cast away all the sadness of the planet and embrace an old woman,
And thank her for her life!
I want to make music, dance, and climb trees.
I want you to be you, always.

.                                      

                        ­                 How is it that                            when you need
                                   something - anything -           from me, I run franticly
                              to your side to aid your desires...But when I just ask for a
                               little compassion, a little distraction, a little satisfaction.
                                You look right through my pleading eyes to the person
                                    behind me and seductively say, "Hey, could you do
                                        me a favor?" And that's when I melt inside. I feel
                                          misused, abused and yet I can't wait until I'm
                                               reused. Because I believe that next time,
                                                    will be the last time, the final time
                                                          when you realize that I might
                                                           ­  not come running. Instead
                                                         ­        I'll be waiting for you
                                                             ­       to miss me by your
                                                            ­           side - like I miss
                                                            ­               being there.
                                                          ­                   *Someday

It was in the park.
When I saw the scarf whirling in the wind,
The elegance in its movement was inspiring,
When the sun hit the cloth,
It twinkled under it's rays.
I continued my stroll in the brisk winter air,
Wondering about the poor soul with no scarf to keep warm.
It was then - when that thought crossed my mind - I saw a pair of mittens sitting on a bench.
Unlike the scarf, the mittens were rooted to the bench on which they lay.
A light coat of ice encased the mittens,
When the sun hit just right,
It twinkled under it's rays.
I continued my stroll in the brisk winter air,
Wondering about the poor soul with no mittens to keep warm.
It was then - when that thought crossed my mind - I saw a jacket hanging in a tree.
It looked as if a body still haunted it, because it waved furiously at me,
Probably hoping I could help it down.
The jacket gave up waving to me when it realized there was no way I was going to be its savior, but
When the sun hit the jacket,
It twinkled under it's rays.
I continued my stroll in the brisk winter air,
Wondering about the poor soul with no jacket to keep warm.
It was then - when that thought crossed my mind - I saw a blanket, with a man and women upon it.
And when the sun hit the eyes of the man,
They twinkled under it's rays.
And I realized, there was no poor soul without material to keep him warm,
There was a lucky soul, with a human being to keep him warm.